I thought back to the night’s events before my parents took me. How did they even find me? The only person who knew where I was—I stopped breathing—was Liane. Was she capable of betraying me like that? We were best friends, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized she would turn me over. I’m sure some kind of reward was involved. And me admitting remorse for our past actions probably repulsed her. She truly believed supernaturals were far superior to humans and would never feel sorry for them.
Fear turned to anger, and my body tingled, starting in my feet. Magic was coming. No! I closed my eyes tight and traveled to the one place that offered protection: Eden.
It had been well over a year since I’d visited; the exact same time I’d met Boaz. The place was more beautiful than I remembered. Clear, sea green water surrounded an island lush with trees and grass, golden sand at its edges. A mountain swept up the west side. On its backside was a steep cliff that I’d jumped from many times in the past, but that wasn’t my goal today. I lowered myself onto the warm sand next to a purple flowering plant. Waves rolled to shore in a soothing patter, one after the other.
With my mind disconnected from my body, I could finally reason a way out of my current nightmare. My parents had taught me many things, but the only lesson worth remembering was that there was a solution to any problem. You just had to find one you could accept. I dug my toes farther into the wet sand, burying my feet.
What I thought unthinkable had finally happened. Erik had threatened to bury me alive my whole life as a form of punishment, but I always thought it was just that—a threat.
A wave to my left crashed to shore. In the distance, two dolphins danced upon the waters, jumping and diving. I had a vague recollection of speaking to them years ago. I smiled, the pain of my physical state completely gone. But I knew I had to return if I had any chance of surviving. And I did want to survive. I had to make things right and find Him, the one who finally set me free. Reluctantly, I left Eden but with a new, calm determination.
Back in the crudely made casket, I pulled the jasmine away from my head and shoved it toward my feet. My fingers traced the wood boards, carefully searching for any weaknesses. Eventually I found a slivered piece above my face that pulled off easily. I continued to pick at the wood, attempting to pull back its many layers. I flinched when my fingernail broke below the quick.
I told myself to breathe slowly, concentrate. I couldn’t succumb to the darkness. I’d come so far in life, overcoming more obstacles than anyone in ten lifetimes. I wasn’t about to give up now.
I tore off another piece of wood. Blood dripped from my fingertip and onto my cheek. I didn’t stop to give my fingers the time they needed to heal.
I thought back to my time as Alarica. It felt like years ago, but in actuality, it couldn’t have been more than a month ago, depending on how long I’d been lying unconscious in this grave. My parents and Boaz thought their dream was finally realized when I was transformed. All they had lived for, fought for, was realized the moment they put that damned necklace around me and gave life to Alarica. But not even they could imagine the horror she would bring, and in the end, they, too, ran in fear. Who knew how many more would’ve been destroyed if it had not been for Him, the vampire who showed me mercy when I deserved none. He even had the opportunity to kill me after I’d lost consciousness but didn’t for some reason. What did surprise me, though, was the fact that he’d left the necklace. Something I’d have to ask him about when I find him.
Another wood chip peeled back. I switched to picking at the wood with my left hand, as the fingers on my right hand were raw and bleeding. I needed to give them a few minutes to heal.
I would find Him. I would get out of here and find Him.
I pried at the wood with my left hand, but it was almost as raw as my right, making it difficult to pick at the wood. Tears stung my eyes. I clenched my jaw tight and continued to work feverishly at the boards despite the pain.
I used my pinky—the only finger with feeling left in it, to touch the hole I had created in the board. It wasn’t even half way through. I pushed on it as hard as I could and felt it flex under the pressure.
Magic could fix this so easy. But that’s what my parents wanted me to choose: magic or trapped forever.
I choose neither.
I waited a few minutes then felt my fingers. They felt okay, nails had even grown back, and so I continued again, picking slowly at the wood. This time was much harder than the first. The wood in the center was more solid and didn’t give away as easily. I worked as hard as I could until my fingers needed to rest. Little progress was made.
Time for a different approach. There was nothing in my pockets, but I did find the end of my zipper on my jacket. I wiggled it back and forth, twisted and pulled until the small metal tab popped off. The end of it would last much longer than my nails.